


Sandy Fishnets

by densekohai



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Child Brothels, Other, Songfic, child prostitution
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-09
Updated: 2016-02-01
Packaged: 2018-04-30 17:38:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5173166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/densekohai/pseuds/densekohai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>~Songfic~AU~   A black-market child brothel in the East End is blooming with business and bringing in thousands of pounds by the day all because of child-prostitute Jim Macken, later under the name Alois Trancy. Though popular with many customers as well as with brothel owner Mr. Trancy, Alois finds himself hated and ostracized by the other boys in the Trancy House, and soon to fall from favor within the brothel. Based off of the song "Sandy Fishnets" by Evelyn Evelyn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Prettiest of All

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, people. Kohai here with my first story on AO3! After listening to a great song of which this fic was named for, a Siamese elephant of an AU headcanon popped into my head that I just had to get out, and so this fic was born. This has been also posted on my fanfiction account of the same name for quite some time, so you can go check it out there, too!
> 
> DISCLAIMER: As mentioned in the summary, there are suggestive themes of black-market child sex trafficking, so if that's a trigger for you then please steer clear of this fic. If this is not a trigger for you then continue on. This is not meant to glorify anything (because eww), but rather meant as a retelling of what did in fact go on in these times. (Dear God, I'm so paranoid.) Anyways, enough of my rambling. Listen to the song or read the lyrics or something because copyright is scary. It'll give you a better understanding of what I'm trying to go for.

The year is 1883. A breakthrough in which oxygen can be liquified sweeps the nation. Bestselling author Robert Louis Stevenson's first novel sits on bookstore shelves, and England is in grief over the asphyxiation of 183 children in a rush for treats in the Victoria concert hall.

This is where our story begins.

In a large and isolated grey-stone building toward the Thames, over fifty young boys aged four to thirteen line up for a meal of stale bread and watery gruel. Among these boys, is Jim Macken, who is given dirty looks and foul remarks by both the staff and inmates as he walks to the dining table, tray in hand.

He sits one seat off from the head of the table, beside the old man Trancy. The brothel owner in question, unlike most, does not look at Jim with jealous or hateful eyes. Instead he looks at the blonde boy with a passion that borderlines craving and lust, as he sits at his place at the head of the 25-foot table. Trancy's meal is much more plentiful and appealing to the tastebuds than what any of the boys eat. But alas, these boys never dare to speak of it, ask for it or express their jealousy for they know their ungratefulness will rid them of their next few dinners.

However, things are different for young Jim. During the meal, he is allowed many bites off of the old man's fork without asking. "Thank you, Mr. Trancy." Jim speaks quietly so as not to draw jealous attention from the other boys who never saw the old man feed him.

/

After dinner came chore time. All the boys handed their empty food trays back to grab brooms and mops,dusters and dustpans, hoping to get their work finished before the sun set and it was time for bed.

All of them, that is, except for young Jim. As the other boys were either on their hands and knees or stood so high they could reach the ceiling, Jim watched as he sat with perfect posture in a dainty little chair, his personal butler and nursemaid both hard at work to dress and doll him up for the coming night.

Claude was dressing him in frilly collars and ruffled cuffs adorning the small violet suit that complimented the pale blue in Jim's eyes. Next came the small trousers, so short that every other boy swore that no one else in the Thames, no, in England would ever be caught dead wearing them through the streets of London. These shorts were followed by a pair of black stockings with lacy garter belts attached. For a final touch, Jim was given knee-high leather boots with small heels and a magenta ribbon laced through each one, tied in a large bow at the top.

Hannah kept herself busy grooming the boy. After running a brush through his hair, she went to clipping and cleaning his nails, though not much was to be cut off as they had already been clipped some nights before. She even put a small amount of powder on his face and shadows over his eyes.

Completing the look was a small black top hat hat that had been put on a slant, barely missing the middle of his head. The butler and nursemaid satisfied with their work, helped young Jim off of his chair and guided him to Mr. Trancy's quarters to be presented to the man for inspection.

Tonight, Jim would be going with a nice French man to his estate in London for the night. As was the case for many nights, Uncle Jaques would always let Jim sit in his lap on the long carriage ride to his home where he would then lead the young boy to the bedroom at the end of the hall. Though he never much liked when that part came, Jim admitted that he did enjoy the attention and compliments given to him.

Halfway through the walk to Mr. Trancy's room, Jim's feet were getting sore and tired from the boots. He started walking slower, and tried to put less weight on his feet. After a short while, Claude noticed this and carefully picked him up, continuing through the corridor past more boys' dorm rooms, letting Hannah lead the way. As Jim was carried, he could hear the conversations between the other boys. They all seemed to be talking about him.

"Just look at 'im. Not even lookin' at us."

"Think's he's better than us, doesn't he."

"Worked our arses off, we did. An' what did he do? Nothing."

"Bloody sod."

"He's a spoiled brat, he is. Doesn't even have to walk."

"Spoiled rotten."

Jim never once thought he was better than anyone. He never thought he was spoiled either. The way he saw it, some people were just more liked than others. And it appeared that he just happened to be one of those people. But Jim knew better than to say anything to anyone. No, he had to stay humble. It added to his appeal which so many of his uncles loved about him. Including Mr. Trancy.

Speaking of the old man in question, him, Claude and Hannah had finally reached the door to his quarters.

Jim was let down to his feet. Claude, now with his arms free, knocked on the door. "Sir, we've prepared Jim."

"Bring him in." Mr Trancy said, looking up from his paperwork. As Jim was escorted in by the two servants, the old man's eyes changed to how he'd looked at the boy during dinner. The same craving eyes that looked upon the boy so many times.

"You two." Said the man. "Get out." Claude and Hannah bowed, then exited the room, making sure to lock the door behind them, leaving Old Man Trancy to do as he pleased with the boy before Uncle Jaques arrived. Ever the opportunist, Mr. Trancy would never pass up the chance to play with his favorite pet.

Ask any boy at Trancy's brothel about young Jim Macken and they'd all say the same jealous prattle of how 'spoiled' he is, or perhaps how he's 'a filthy slut' or 'dirty whore'. That is, ask any boy except one.

Except for Luka.

Being three years his senior, it should be expected of Jim not to see much of Luka, with the exception of events like meal time or chores in which the fair boy never had to help with. But every night, before the moon rose and one of his uncles came to see him, young Jim would sneak out of his lavish king bed, through the long corridor to Luka's dorm, and softly open the door.

"Luka." He whispered. "Luka it's me. It's Jim."

Soon enough he heard the soft footsteps of his brother. Well, the closest thing young Jim had to a brother, that is. Both boys were taken in by Trancy at the same time, and lived together on the streets the years prior.

"I thought your Uncle Henry was supposed to see you tonight, wasn't he, Brother?" Luka whispered, as innocent as a five-year-old was with no uncles for himself.

"Not until later. I've still some time 'till I have to get ready." said Jim. "Now, where did we leave off from last time?"

The redheaded boy gasped, excited. "At the part where Blackbeard's ship came!"

"Of course." Jim remebered, and continued to spin his tale of him and his brother.

"There it was, on the edge of the horizon, it's black skull flag hanging high in the air! It could only mean one thing to Captain Jim and his crew."

Luka squealed as the last word was spoken. "We're under attack, Captain Jim!"'

"Sailor Luka's eyes left the parascope, scrambling down to the deck as fast as he could. "Get the cannons ready!" He called to the crew, running to the bow. Captain Jim was at the wheel, steering their ship and barely missing a cannon fire that landed in the water with a great big SPLASH!" The younger boy giggled at his brother's storytelling.

"And with that, the crew fired back with their first cannon, tearing a hole through the middle of the massive ship!"

Luka cheered in victory. "Take that, Blackbeard!"

"But! Blackbeard an' his crew weren't finished yet! The ship turned to starboard, and started to pick up speed to Captain Jim, Sailor Luka and all of their crew! Without a moment's hesitation, the crew fired all the cannons they had at Blackbeard's ship! They bore hole after hole as the ship was sinking faster and faster. But as much as they tried, as many cannons they fired, it still wasn't enough. Blackbeard an' his crew were close enough that they could jump onto the S.S. Trancy. And that's exactly what they did!

"In the next moments all that was to be heard on the ship were sounds of clashing swords and battle cries. The two parrots Claude and Hannah were flying everywhere over the sound, squawking almost as loud. But things were bleak for Captain Jim and his crew. For the sheer numbers were-"

There was a knock on the door. "Oh, Jim~?"

The door opened to reveal Mr. Trancy. "It's time to get ready for Uncle Henry."

Jim made a sound of protest. "Please, just five minutes more?"

"I'm afraid not, my pet. Claude and Hannah have already picked an outfit for you." The old man purred. "You wouldn't want to keep them waiting, would you?"

"W-well, no, but I'm not fini-"

"Now, Jim." Trancy's voice became stern. This frightened young Jim, as he had never heard his Uncle Trancy speak to him this way. "Your Uncle Henry has paid good money to see you, and if you disappoint any of your uncles, it's going to not only ruin your reputation but mine as well. You will say goodnight to Luka, leave this room and get dressed for Uncle Henry, do you understand!?"

Jim paused for a moment before letting his eyes drop to the floor. "Yes, Uncle Trancy."

The brothel owner's stern face turned to a smiling one as his precious doll bade the younger boy goodnight. Trancy extended a large hand to young Jim, who slowly took it with his own to be led out of the room.

"Thank you for obeying, Jim."

"All for you, Uncle Trancy."

A few more steps out of the corridor, Jim could see Claude and Hannah ready to dress him into the revealing sailor suit laid out over the back of the chair he'd sat in so many times.

2 weeks later and Luka still hadn't been told what had happened to Captain Jim and his crew.

/

Jim was escorted once again by Claude and Hannah to the office of Mr. Trancy. As they approached the door, Claude let go of the trailing silk kimono that hung loose over Jim's thin frame, letting the ends fall to the floor.

"Sir," Claude said, knocking the door, "We've prepared Jim."

Today was a special day. Jim was to be visited by many of his uncles. Almost all of them that he knew. But like any other time when he had uncles visiting, he was to please his Uncle Trancy before anyone else.

'No. That's not right.' Jim thought to himself as the door opened, Hannah and Claude quickly ushering him in before exiting and locking the the door. 'That's not what I'm supposed to call him anymore.'

As young Jim had been instructed to call Uncle Trancy by a different name, he had also been given a new name for himself.

The old brothel owner rose from his chair and walked over to the boy. Looked at him with the same craving as he guided once-Jim to the large bed on the other side of the room.

"You look lovely, Alois Trancy."

Alois was lifted to the bed and placed gently on his back. "Thank you, father dearest."

/

After Father was done with him, Alois was sent back to Claude and Hannah to be given a bath, re-dressed, have his hair re-brushed and have his powder and shadow re-applied. He looked like new, like the past hour never happened. But the time had soon came for when Uncle John came to have Alois be put in a carriage to London once again.

Barefoot and having nothing but the red kimono that would drag through the dirt and trail dust through Uncle John's home, Claude had carried the boy to the horse-drawn cart. Hannah closely followed, picking up the loose ends of silk that threatened to touch the ground. Behind her came Uncle John and Father.

Claude had placed Alois on the seat so that neither his legs nor his kimono dangled over the edge. Uncle John took the seat remaining and signaled the driver to get the horses ready to move.

Then Father stepped in and poked his head through the door. "You'd better not take long, John. My pet's on a tight schedule. Have him back by noon, will you?"

"Whatever you say, Trancy."

"As for you, Alois..." The old man turned to face the boy sitting pretty in the other seat. "I trust that you'll be on your best behavior for Uncle John, alright?"

Those eyes again.

"Yes, father."

"Good. I'll see you both in a few hours, then." Father stepped out and away from the carriage.

"Goodbye, father." Alois watched the figures of his father, butler and nursemaid grow smaller and smaller until there was nothing left.

Small conversation between him and Uncle John was made throughout the ride to London. They were over half the way to Uncle John's home when the cart had stopped in front of a small shop decorated with bright colors. The smell of sugar and pastry wafted out of the shop's open window and into those of the carriage.

"Wait here," said Uncle John as he stepped out. "I'll be back in a minute."

Alois only nodded, though he was extremely glad for the time alone. The boy was not very fond of Uncle John. He was always sweaty, and stunk of alcohol. As the tall man stepped out, Alois could feel the air becoming less stuffy and more fresh as he took in a breath.

A few minutes later, Uncle John came out of the sweets shop holding a white box in one arm. Before he re-entered the carriage, though, Alois saw him turn around and take something out of his jacket.

'Probably nothing,' the boy thought. 'Nothing but a shot of rum that he's so desperate to down.'

Uncle John soon came back into the cart, yelling at the driver to move again. He then took his seat, facing Alois. "I bought you something, Jim."

"What is it, Uncle John?" Alois asked, feigning innocence and oblivion. "May I see?"

Uncle John opened the box for the boy to see a cinnamon roll, coated with icing and as big as his two fists put together. Uncle John took it out of the box and held it to the boy's mouth. "Here you are. Take a bite."

Though Alois knew Uncle John was going to buy him something of the sort, he was still pleasantly surprised at the size of the thing. He'd never get away with having something like this back at the brothel. "Thank you, Uncle John." He leaned forward and did what his uncle said.

It was sweet. The pastry was still warm and the cinnamon danced on his tongue as the icing melted in his mouth. Maybe Uncle John isn't so bad after all, he thought. Alois desperately wanted to take another bite, but no, he couldn't, not when his mouth was this full. He chewed a bit more before swallowing.

It didn't take long after to find that something was off.

His body started to feel heavy. His stomach felt sick. What is this? He wondered.

"Would you like another bite, Jim?" asked Uncle John, but Alois didn't have the strength to speak. Dark spots were appearing before his vision as his consciousness was slowly fading.

The last thing Alois saw was Uncle John smiling as he threw away the drugged pastry.

/

Alois woke up in the same place he fell asleep. In the carriage, with Uncle John snoring in the seat across from him. Looking down at himself, he could see that his red kimono had lost its silky shine and was torn in some places. His skin was dirty, but not bruised. His nose wrinkled as the smell of alcohol and sweat was all over him. The boy was glad that all his other uncles would be visiting him in his bedroom today.

It was a short time afterward when the carriage came to a stop at the brothel, waking Uncle John from his nap. Alois could hear a bell tower nearby ring twelve times before falling silent again. 'Right on time,' he thought, seeing Trancy, Claude and Hannah walk over to the carriage. Moments later Alois was back in the arms of Claude, being lifted out of the carriage and through the brothel entrance to be cleaned. Just before his butler and nursemaid could shut the doors, he overheard some of the conversation between Father and Uncle John:

"You could have been less rough with him, John."

"I'm telling you the truth, Trancy. The cart tipped and he fell. I am truly sorry.

Father sighed, putting a hand up to his wrinkled forehead. "I still expect more money for the clothes and my pet's safety. I want it by the end of the week."

/

Alois was having his fifth bath that day. Claude was rinsing the last of the soap in his hair as Hannah was laying out the last outfit he had to wear. Uncle Walter was scheduled to arrive in twenty minutes, but knowing the man and his punctuality, Uncle Walter would be coming at least five minutes early.

Dinnertime would be nearly finished for all the other boys when Uncle Walter came. Though Alois would be skipping out on dinner, he'd make sure to politely ask Father for food after he was done.

By the time he was dried off and dressed in the frilly-collared suit with the shorts and stockings, Father Trancy stepped in with Uncle Walter following behind just as Hannah was tying the last bow.

"Your next guest is here," said Father Trancy, "Say hello, Alois."

"Hello, Uncle Walter." Alois let a small smile form on his lips.

"Thank you, Trancy. Some privacy, now." said Uncle Walter. Alois watched as Father, Claude and Hannah leave the room.

The boots that were on Alois' feet for barely a minute were soon taken off as Uncle Walter knelt down to ogle over the young boy's legs. None of this was new for Alois; most visits from his uncles started like this. They'd get tired after while and try something else soon.

Meanwhile, it was chore time for all the other boys. Nobody wondered where Alois was, or why he wasn't sitting in that chair being pampered by his servants. Because they knew the reason.

"We aint' ever had servants." Said one. "What makes 'im so special?"

"It's what the Old Man Trancy wishes." said another.

"Aye," a third piped up. "I 'ear that Trancy's one of his uncles now."

"Nah." said the first. "Jim's been calling 'im Father as of late."

"Spoiled whore." said the second. "Nothing but a little brat."

The other boys in the room all nodded and seemed to agree. All except for a certain little redheaded boy, who looked at them with bitter eyes as he scrubbed the floors. 'How dare they say that to Brother?!' Luka thought to himself as he moved his brush and water pail to a quieter place. But it seemed wherever the little boy went, there was always foul talk about his brother. He heard all the insults, from all the boys, in all the rooms.

"Skipped dinner to take a bath, he did."

"How many uncles has he had today?"

"More than what we'd ever get in a lifetime, that's for sure. Missed out on lunch, too."

They've got to be lying, thought Luka, the small child starting to run. Not to anywhere exactly. His legs simply were moving out of the rage that would get worse with each snide comment and every rumor spread.

'They can't be sayin' all these things. Not to Brother.' Not to Jim. Captain Jim, the baddest, best and bravest pirate of the Seven Seas! No, it couldn't have been at all. Could it have?

Luka stopped running after his legs couldn't anymore. Slowing down and catching his breath, he slowly became more aware of the sights and sounds around him. Or rather, a lack thereof.

Putting down his scrub-brush and water pail in the middle of the empty corridor, Luka decided to do a little exploring. He'd never seen this part of the Trancy House before. It seemed to be cleaner and better-decorated than anything he had ever seen of the brothel. The doors and shelves were made of rich mahogany that complimented the red carpeting well. Golden saucers and vases adorned the walls as paintings on the ceiling told a story of the Gods.

Luka was in awe. He could barely keep his head in one place, looking around the long corridor. 'How long's this corridor anyway?' The boy wondered. 'I've never been down one this long befo-'

His thoughts were cut off. He froze at the sound coming from two doors to his right.

It wasn't uncommon to hear the odd grunt or sigh at night. This was a brothel, after all. But it wasn't necessarily what the sound was that made Luka feel uneasy, but instead the thought of who the sound belonged to.

He tiptoed until he stood beside the door. The redhead tried to convince himself that his suspicions were nothing more than pure rubbish, but the sounds were clearer now and his suspicions were coming back to haunt him.

'Shut up, Luka. You're hearin' things. Any more o' this an' it's gonna be from the brothel to the loony bin with you.'

Another sound.

Maybe, just maybe, Luka thought, he wasn't hearing things.

'I can't look. I just can't.' Oh, how Luka didn't want his suspicions to be right. 'But I have to. I've got to.'

'I don't want to, though.'

'But I've already come this far.'

'One look can't hurt, can it?'

Slowly, Luka peeked through the crack of the slightly open door.

And immediately regretted it.

All of the hateful words and rumors from the other boys slowly came back to him. And this time, Luka hated them even more.

Because they were true. They were all true.

He couldn't look anymore. Picking his scrub-brush and water pail back up from the once-empty hall, he ran again, for he knew that what he saw would haunt him for the rest of his life. He knew he wouldn't be able to see his brother the same way again. He knew now that he never should have come to where he didn't know.

Racing back toward the dorms, Luka couldn't help but to ask himself if what he saw was what having an uncle really meant.


	2. Not Wanted Anymore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Alois gets older, he falls from favor within the brothel and with many of his uncles. As a terrible feeling in his stomach appears, even Mr. Trancy gets tired of him.
> 
> ~~~ Also, I've noticed that ao3 doesn't have an italic function. Either that, or I just don't know how to activate it. So, instead of italic, thought-speak will be written in 'single quotations' while normal dialogue is written in "double quotations." ~~~

From the ages of eight to twelve, young Alois Trancy's days started by waking up at nine o'clock, two hours later than what was allowed to the normal boys. Being helped into a sitting position, he would have breakfast served to him in bed, never having to lift a finger as his butler held the fork up to his mouth for every bite. His nursemaid would serve him tea, telling him which uncles he'd be visiting with today.

Alois would then be helped off of his bed and carried upstairs for a bath. Why was he carried all the time, you ask? It was simply under the order of Mr. Trancy, you see. "Don't let the goods be damaged," he'd always say, "I want him in perfect condition." And so it went that Alois was only permitted to walk for a specific amount time and nothing more. He wasn't allowed to run or climb like the other boys could. Even going up and down stairs would never be permitted for Alois to do on his own.

Set gently in the water, which had to be exactly thirty-eight-point-five degrees celsius, Alois would have his hair and body washed thoroughly, his nails clipped and cleaned, his ears swabbed and his feet filed and rid of any rough skin until his fingertips and toes were the tiniest bit wrinkled from the water. His fair skin would be delicately dabbed with a towel with as little friction as possible to dry off the boy.

His first uncle would always be his Uncle Trancy, that would go without question, though the first visiting uncle of the day would arrive at about ten-thirty. Usually it was Uncle Victor or Uncle Lawrence, whom Alois came to be quite fond of. They would always come with gifts for the boy, sometimes even candy. Other times, It was Uncle John or Uncle Albert. As for them, Alois could never bring himself to want to see them whenever they visited. Uncle John was always sweaty and smelly, and Uncle Albert never could keep himself from touching the boy as soon as he was sighted. It was overwhelming to young Alois, and sometimes scary.

But he couldn't say that, oh no. One wrong word in front of Uncle Trancy and he'd be scolded with a lash to the back and a kick out the door. Alois was lucky he could act the part of innocent little boy quite well.

None of his other uncles came until the afternoon. This left Alois to his own devices for an hour or two before he had to take another bath and change into another set of clothes. Under the watchful eyes of Claude and Hannah, the young boy would explore the brothel at his own free will.

Walking through the corridors, he seemed to always meet with unkindly faces and was often ostracized by the other boys who would speak at him with every word laced in poison. Foul remarks such as 'filthy whore' and 'dirty tart' bounced off the brothel walls from every room of the building. Yes, you could say that Alois was thought of as nothing but a spoon-fed slut who thought himself to be higher and more deserving than the others.

Though he never responded and acted as if he didn't hear, Alois admitted to himself that it hurt a little.

But just a little. Not enough for him to think about it all day or make him cry. Why, you ask?

Because if there was one thing Alois was, is was that he knew better. Who were they to call him a 'whore' or 'slut' when they were the exact same as him? They were all part of the brothel, just as he was. They all had uncles, just as he did.

Well, to be fair, no boy had as many of them as he, and most of them would eventually decide to become one of his own.

Also, it was obvious that they all hated their position in the brothel. Surely they were saying all those things out of jealousy, which made it almost hypocritical, he thought, for them to want his popularity and favoritism from as many uncles as he had.

Alois would, like any other day, shrug it off and leave to explore some more. Maybe ask Uncle Trancy for a slice of the cake he'd seen the cooks put icing on in the kitchen. It was worth a shot.

/

Time passed and it was time to take another bath and dress for Uncle Edward, who came in three to five times a week to take Alois to his residence in Wembley. But first, his favorite uncle would always take him around London and spoil him with whatever he wanted. Alois enjoyed walking through the downtown area, everything from the cobblestone roadways to the happy people walking to the open stores and welcoming shopkeepers greeting him. They's stay for as long as Alois wanted, and if his feet were ever tired, Uncle Edward would give him a piggy-back ride for the rest of their time in town.

But most of all he liked the change of not having to wear flashy clothes that showed too much skin or had tight suit buttons. Sure, he was still dolled up in ribbons and ruffles, and he still had his trademark shorts and over-the-knee stockings -which most certainly turned heads- but he was thankful for the time he had in which he could wear something comfortable for a change.

On the carriage ride back to the brothel, the tired boy would always sleep in Uncle Edward's lap. He didn't smell that bad for an old man. Not like Uncle John, oh no. Uncle Edward smelled quite nice, actually. It was fresh, like a suit you'd just taken off the clothesline.

Alois would be back home at around five-thirty. He was always glad he could take a nap on the carriage ride back from Wembley, for a great number of his uncles would visit during the evening. He'd have his last and longest bath just before dinner, usually attending said meal wearing a fluffy white bathrobe that looked almost as expensive as some of the outfits he'd wear to please his many uncles.

He'd sit at his place beside Uncle Trancy, much to the other boys' envy. Uncle Trancy would feed Alois bits of his own, better tasting meal the same way the boy's butler would every morning. The old man took a sick pleasure in how delicate and his pet was in chewing the food, and found cute the clean and petite sneezes he'd make at the mere sniff of pepper.

Alois imagined that if he could, Uncle Trancy would take him to his bedroom for a second time. But he couldn't, not with all the other uncles coming.

During chore time, he'd be dressed and groomed for the last time of the day (or rather, the night). At this time Claude and Hannah would make sure his hair was the softest, his outfit the most appealing, and his face the palest white, save for his flushed cheeks that made his face almost look like painted porcelain.

He would then be carried upstairs to his bed where he'd be instructed to wait. It could be a long time, it could be a short time, but he would always do so with obedience until the first in a line of uncles came to see him.

They would always stay long, which would leave Claude and Hannah with just over ten minutes to re-dress him, re-brush his hair, and touch up on the small amount of makeup he had. They would finish barely before his next uncle came in. Alois became quite tired from the ordeal, but would never show it and would always put of an innocent face when each uncle came in.

Uncle Luther would say to him how pretty he was. "Just like a doll", he'd say.

Uncle Silas was gentle, always sure not to leave marks on the boy's skin like all the other uncles would.

Uncle Horace would be drunk and mean, yelling at him and calling him hateful things, fainting in the hallway after he was finished.

Uncle William was always rough when he came. It was painful to Alois through every visit with him.

Sometimes he didn't even know the uncles who visited, but they all kept him for long and the last one would always leave at almost midnight. Alois was so exhausted that he's let his eyelids fall when Claude and Hannah came in for the last time to change him into his nightclothes. Sometimes he'd drift off before they were done. They never seemed to mind, though. Claude was as stoic as ever, and Hannah always had that passive but agreeable disposition about her.

However, most times this wasn't the case. He was rarely lucky enough to be able to fall unconscious in a matter of mere minutes. Just as his caretakers were leaving after tucking him in, Alois would grab the end of Claude's tailcoat.

"Will you stay with me?" The boy would ask.

Claude sighed. "I think it unwise to-"

"Just until I fall asleep?" With as much effort as it took for Alois to open his eyes, he'd always choose this moment to bring out the big guns. He'd bite his lip as hard as he could to get the tears going. "I don't like it in the dark, and I'm already exhausted. Please, Claude?"

Claude never gave in because of the look. It was only out of concern that Mr. Trancy would see the teeth marks be cross and scold him for 'letting his precious pet do such things to himself'. Claude could almost hear the man saying it in his mind.

"As you wish." The man sat down on the edge of the bed, satisfying Alois. With Claude at his side he'd rest easy, maybe working up the courage and acting skills to get himself another hour to sleep in the next morning.

But today, it would all change. Those days would be gone, merely a thing of the past.

////////////////

The year is 1888. The first recorded film is made in Roundhay in Leeds. A slew of murders comitted by the infamous Jack the Ripper leaves the nation in a wave of panic and unease.

Trancy's brothel is threatened with bankruptcy and leaving over fifty boys aged five to thirteen homeless and without food, water and adequate living conditions by the end of the year.

This was all because of one boy in particular.

Alois was changing. He was growing taller, his moods were flip-flopping from pleasant to not, and he was even starting to find hair in places he hadn't thought possible. Yes, it became evident that puberty was upon him. And it didn't go unnoticed.

Over time, Alois would notice his baths would be shorter and less frequent. He would never be 100 percent clean, either; he'd always find a few specks of dirt here and there. Sometimes his hair would be a bit oily and less soft than he was used to. He'd even notice that his nails almost reached over his fingertips. He didn't have to dress for as many uncles, either. For the first time in a long time, he could count who would come to visit him.

That number was eleven. He hadn't been as low as eleven before. Not since he was first taken in.

He was still well ahead of all the other boys, though. If he was to be any normal boy in the brothel, he'd be lucky to have five uncles in all, let alone ones who came regularly.

He still had his spot at the dinner table next to Father, who would still feed him bits of his food. He still didn't have to help with the chores. He still heard the other boys call him names.

But Alois couldn't help but feel that Father was starting to think less of him. When he was brought by Claude and Hannah to please Father, he wouldn't be kept for as long as before. Father never told him he looked lovely anymore. He was no longer a precious pet or delicate doll. Father's lusting eyes looked at him more as a force of habit than when he'd truly meant it.

But there was one day when Father's last strings of patience was broken.

It started out like any other day. Claude and Hannah had finished dressing Alois and was carried by his butler to Father's door as he had said he hadn't been feeling well after breakfast.

"We've prepared Alois, sir." It was Hannah who knocked, as Claude had his arms full.

"Bring him in." Said Father.

In a different and more appealing outfit than many Alois had worn before, the man was quite surprised of how lovely he'd looked. It was the best he'd looked in a long time, Trancy was sure of that.

As Claude and Hannah left, it started like older times. Though his stomach was still a bit sour, Alois was genuinely happy to be complimented on how he looked after so long.

Father started with the boy's legs. Instead of the usual nylon stockings Alois wore, he'd had fishnet ones with lace garter belts under his shorts, that were considerably shorter than what he'd normally sport. After that, a tight midriff-baring vest with a high and ruffled collar that didn't do much to help the growing lump in his throat. It was deep red, accented with a black bow placed over the boy's chest.

After a few minutes, Father got tired of merely fondling the boy and lifted him to the bed. But instead of being set down on it gently, Alois was thrown on it rather hard, almost hitting his head on the wall behind him. The impact, along with Father now on top of him, didn't make his stomach feel any better.

It was worse. Much worse.

Vicious kisses were placed on his neck, making the lump in his throat grow bigger. Alois could smell the sweat from Father's body as his hands ran up and down the boy's thin form. Alois could feel them over his stomach, making it churn and do somersaults.

"Father..." He barely had what it took to talk. "Father, please, not so rough..."

Father never heard him. Alois felt his collar being pulled down, giving the man more lip room as he kissed over the growing nausea collecting in the boy's throat that he'd tried to swallow down.

"Father, please be more gentle..."

His vest was undone now. Father had now started to leave a trail with his lips until he reached what Alois feared he would.

"Father, I don't feel well..."

The old man certainly took his time kissing the boy's stomach. He would spend several minutes on one place, leaving it bite-marked and red when he moved to the next spot. His large hands held it in place, pinning Alois to the bed which made the sickness rise inside him. Alois knew he couldn't hold it much longer. Scared of what was to come and what Father might do to him when it happened, he let the dam break and soon enough, tears had streaked and washed away his makeup that ran down his cheeks.

"Please Father, I'm going to be sick!" He sobbed quietly.

He covered his mouth with his hands. If he was going to puke, he might as well try to contain it. He hadn't even tried to get Father's attention again. There was no point, as the man was simply too blinded by his own lust over the boy.

Father never even noticed when Alois had started to retch. If anything, he only kissed harder, leaving bigger red spots and deeper bite marks.

What happened next Alois couldn't possibly explain. It all happened so fast and before he knew it, he was thrown off of the bed, covered in his breakfast that had came back up. Though it seemed everything he saw was filtered through his tears, he knew that Father was angry with him.

Alois had never seen Father angry before. He'd never expected to be thrown to the ground like that. He was still in shock when Father struck him across his acid-covered face and called Claude and Hannah to take him out of the room.

They grabbed his wrists and started to drag him across the carpeted room and out to the corridor. Alois was numb to the the fact that his stockings were being worn to mere threads or that he was getting burns on his legs from the corridor's rug below him. Whispers and questions for the other boys were greeted by deaf ears that neither heard nor cared. Still, they did no got unnoticed by the two servants who, though said nothing, took in every word with their heads hung low. For if young Alois' reputation was threatened, so were their jobs.

"What happened?" Said one. "Look, he's not bein' carried like he was before."

"Look at 'im. He's bloody disgusting." Piped up a second. "First time he's been this big of a mess since they first took 'im in."

"My guess is that he was sick all over Trancy. Must've got sent out after that." Added a third.

"Serves 'im right, if you ask me." The first said.

"Serves who right?" Asked the third. "Trancy or the slut?"

"I don't know. Both of them, I'd guess."

"Definitely both of them," finished the second.

What the three didn't know, however, was that Alois caught the very last of the conversation. He heard it now, and he most certainly cared. As he was dragged further down the dorm corridor, most other boys had said the same thing. It seemed the more he heard it, the more it hurt him, creating a wave of uncontrollable thoughts through his mind.

'What did I ever do to deserve this?' He asked himself.

'They're just jealous, that's it. They've been saying things like that for years. Why's it bothering me now? You're acting stupid, Alois.'

'But Father... Why did he do those things? I warned him, didn't I? He just wasn't listening. Then he throws me off the bed and strikes me...'

'It's not my fault. I did what I could.'

'Father ignored me. It's his fault.'

'Yes, it's his fault. But Father isn't going to think that. I know he's not. Too selfish for his own good. He'll pin the blame all on me.'

'He must hate me now. He's got to. I haven't been doing well these past few months. I'm no longer Father's favorite. I'm not his pet or his doll anymore. I don't mean anything to him like I used to. Today was my last chance, and I ruined it.'

'No. I didn't ruin it. It's Father's fault. If I was nine again, he'd never do what he did today. Never.'

'If Father hates me now... Then I hate him too.'

Alois would replay these thoughts in his head, giving himself a weird kind of satisfaction in doing so until Claude and Hannah had set him in the bath, washing off the vomit that was drying at the edges. The servants kept busy, taking turns bringing in fresh water only for it to be changed soon after. This ordeal made Alois quite irritable, having to be brought in and out of the bath. As if I wasn't feeling terrible enough, he thought to himself. The repetitiveness of being carried only made his stomach sicker. At least I don't have to do it myself.

It was Hannah's turn to change the water. Claude had carried the boy out again and dumped out the dirty bathwater out the back window to the ground below. The nursemaid locked the door behind her, catching an eye of the few boys running down the corridor. Under the orders of Mr. Trancy, both she and Claude were instructed to stay clear of any other boys. Slipping past them in the corridor and out to the courtyard, she started filling a number of buckets from the well next to where some other boys were playing.

Telling herself to mind her own business, Hannah focused on her task at hand until she felt a tug at her dress. "Excuse me, miss." A small voice said. Turning around, Hannah was greeted by a boy no more than eight years old. Large eyes stared up at her, their rich dark brown irises being brought out by a mop of rust-colored hair. "Are you one of Ji- I mean Alois' servants?"

The nursemaid couldn't help but smile at the boy. "Yes, I am. Why do you ask, child?"

"W-Well," he stammered, "I 'aven't seen him yet today, a-and I was wondering... Is he okay?"

Hannah was astonished. No boy at the brothel had ever expressed this much concern for Alois before. "He's not feeling very well at the moment, but-"

"I 'eard what happened. Can you take me, miss? He knows who I am, and I know he'll let me in."

"Very well," said the woman. "In that case, will you help me carry some water?"

"Yes, miss, thank you ever so much!" The boy picked up a bucket and following the nice woman back inside the brothel.

"Call me Hannah," she said.

"Okay. I'm Luka."

On the walk back to the brothel, Luka talked and talked about him and Alois. "He's my brother, you see."

"Oh?"

"Well, he's not really my brother. We were on the streets together, me an' him. We stole stuff together and lived in an old barn near the river. One time we outran two men! They were tall an' strong an' they didn't even catch us once! Can you believe it?"

Hannah laughed. "No, I can't."

"You wanna know somethin' else? Mr. Trancy took us both in at the same time. I was too young to go in, an' he didn't want me. But Brother never once let go of me. He was yelling an' crying, saying he'd never leave me. He wouldn't go in unless Mr. Trancy took me in as well. And that's what he did."

"I see that Alois loves you very much."

"He does! And I love 'im, too. He'd always make time for me and tell me stories before he had to see one of his uncles." Luka paused, looking down. "But he doesn't do that as much as he used to. I guess he's got too many uncles now, doesn't he?"

All Hannah could do was sigh. From what she made of this boy, he was too innocent and oblivious to know that many of Alois' uncles had left and that the brothel was soon to be closed down. She couldn't tell Luka the truth. He loved his dear brother too much that he'd cry for him. Fortunately for her, there was no need to tell him anyway, as they'd arrived at the door. "We're here," she said. "Let me go in first, alright?"

"Okay."

Hannah reached into the pocket of her dress for the key and was about to unlock the door when Luka spoke again.

"Thank you again, Miss Hannah. For taking me here."

"You're very welcome, child. I'm glad there's someone who cares for Alois as much as you do." With Luka behind her, she opened up the door, smiling. "There's someone here who would like to see you, Alois."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here we are again. An end of another chapter. Hopefully I'll try and start writing my final chapter soon, and posting that on my Fanfiction account, check that out if you like what you read!
> 
> ~disclaimer~ Any character whose name you don't know belongs to me. The ones whose names you do, do not. 
> 
> See you next time, lovely people!


	3. Doctor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, I haven't posted in a while, have I? Sorry to all of you. But anyways, i was wondering of maybe doing little snippets from this idea and putting them one here. Kinda like litttle side stories with no real timeline. Seems I'll have to make this into a series... Anyway, enjoy!

Luka crept out from behind Hannah, desperately wanting to see his brother again but hoping he hadn't walked in on something he shouldn't. Since that time four years ago, he'd always felt uneasy whenever walking past closed doors or hearing the word 'uncle'. Luckily for him, he still didn't have any uncles for himself. But Luka was turning nine soon, and that was the age he'd found that men liked the most. He'd now known full well that when living at the Trancy House, he could only take his purity with him so far. And as much as Luka didn't want to believe it, that meant Alois was rid of it a long time ago.

However, that didn't change the fact that Luka loved him, made obvious from the look of worry on the younger boy's face when he saw his brother. The older boy in question was sitting down on a bath stool, his lower half covered with a towel for modesty. But Alois wasn't at all a pretty sight like he usually was. Instead of a flawless pale white, his skin was blotchy and red. Dirty bathwater and sweat had stuck matted blond hair to his forehead. A vile stench assaulted Luka's nose, coming from the half-washed-off, half-dried up mix of digested food and stomach acid covering what amount of skin was exposed.

"Brother!" Luka called, "Are you alright?"

"Luka..." Alois was tired, but relieved to see that his guest wasn't what he'd thought. " I'm fine. Just sick, that's all. I promise I'll be bett-"

"I 'eard what happened." Luka put his head down. He didn't want to cut his brother off, but he had to. He had to find out whether or not what the other boys said was true.

"About Father and me?" Alois hoped and pleaded to whatever God there was that no rumors had been spread, all lies left untold. Nevertheless, there was nothing he could do but mentally slap himself a few seconds later. Stupid, he thought to himself. They hate me more than Father does. Of course they're going to say things.

Luka nodded. "I 'eard the other boys sayin' that Mr Trancy had tied you up and beat you." In a flash, determined brown eyes quickly met unreadable blue ones. "But that's not true, right Brother? Not Mr Trancy, he'd never strike you. Ever. Would he?"

Bastards! How did they come up with... Why did they... Despite the raging tornado of upsetting confusion in his head, Alois simply sighed. "No, it's not true. "None of it is. Don't worry."

Liar.

Luka let an expression of relief settle in on his face. "So you're not hurt, then?"

Alois felt his breath hitch. He wasn't sure if it was because of nausea, or because he didn't want Luka to know. Perhaps it could have been both.

"Brother? You're not hurt, are you?"

Alois still paused.

Among the growing silence, two boys were running down the halls, laughing. Noticing the brothel favorite in such a state, they didn't hesitate to take advantage of the open doorway.

"You got what was comin', whore-bag!"

"Once all of your precious uncles hear about this, no one's gonna wanna screw your brains out anymore, you slut!"

Alois couldn't look at them. His head hurt. His eyes were red. His cheeks were wet and his stomach was doing back-flips.

"But don't worry," one smiled, "It's not like we'll miss all the sounds you make at night!"

The second then chimed in with a slew of high pitched "uhh"s and "aahhh"s which had the first boy snorting with laughter until the final call of "Oh, Father!" almost had the both of them in tears.

Alois wondered why he was feeling the way he did. I've never been hurt by things like this before, he thought.

Then again, no one's ever gone this far.

"Hey, 'least you don't have to be kissed by someone with as big a gap as ol' Trancy anymore!

"Look at the marks on 'im!" The first boy pointed. "You can see 'em through the puke!"

"Bloody disgusting, innit? I'm sure Trancy had the time of his life, though." The two laughed again.

Alois knew he wouldn't be able to take any more of it. Tensing up, he closed in on himself, covering Father's marks on him with shaky hands. He put his face down, hoping nobody would see or hear him cry.

"Aw, Byron." The second boy said, mocking their target. "We made 'im tear up, look!"

No use.

Byron scoffed. "First time I've seen 'im show any emotion other than those fuck-me-eyes he always puts on for any pervert who comes his way."

Alois let his silent act drop. There was no point in hiding in anymore. He hiccuped and sobbed loud enough for the next room to hear, his cries echoing through the room and down the corridor all the way to the other boys' dorms.

But he didn't care. He was too busy deciding to himself he'd never leave his room at all that day. On the other hand, Luka's eyes flashed with as much rage as an eight-year-old could muster. His fists tightened, his jaw clenched, and his brow furrowed until he couldn't hold it in. "How dare you!"

"Watch out, Hector." Said Byron. "We've got an angry one over here."

"How dare you do this to Brother?! How sick and twisted are your souls for you to say things like that?"

"Oh what, you think you're so special just because you were street rats with this slutsack?" Hector scoffed. "Please. We're sayin' this because it's true, why else? Now if you don't want your nose broken, I'd suggest you-"

"Calm down, Hec." Byron gave a punch to his friend's arm. "We got him to cry, what more do you want?" He said, shooting a glance at Alois, who still hadn't finished shedding his tears. "Come on, Let's get out of here."

"Fine," Hector grunted. Turning on his heel, he followed his friend's leave, but not before bidding a final farewell to the once-favorite of the Trancy House.

"See you around, slut."

As soon as the two were out of sight, Luka stormed over to the door and locked it shut, the way it should have been all along. "Brother," he said quietly, walking over to the crying mess that was Alois Trancy. "It's okay now." Luka did the best he could to hug the older boy without getting any bile on himself. "They're not 'ere anymore."

Alois slowly lifted his head, his cries quieting down a little upon the realization that the two boys were in fact gone.

Luka spoke again. "So Mr Trancy never struck you then, right?"

Alois found no other choice but to tell the truth. "W-well, actually..." he stammered, trying to regulate his breathing. "I was sick, and then..."

"And then what?" Luka broke his embrace. "Did he hurt you, Brother?"

"He got angry at me. He threw me to the ground, and then struck me..." Alois tried as hard as he could to fight back even more tears. "It was just once, but I know Father hates me now." He let out a small sob. "Most of my uncles have left, too..." He let out another. And another and another until they wouldn't stop.

"Brother..." Luka was about to start crying himself. "Don't worry, you've still got plenty of them, 'aven't you?"

Alois shrugged. "Doesn't matter," he sniffed. "They'll all be gone soon, just like the rest. I know they will. Then I'll be kicked out."

"Don't say that, Brother."

"Why not? It's true, anyway."

Luka sighed. "Well... If they do send you out, they can send me out too."

In the midst of the conversation between two brothers, Hannah couldn't help but smile sadly. In a matter of mere minutes, she had grown attached to the two boys, admiring how much they cared and looked out for one another. She could easily see that the two had gone through some rough times together. Looking behind her, Claude merely rolled his eyes, continuing the work of changing the bathwater. Not long after both him and Hannah had been employed, the nursemaid could see that he was only interested about the money. He'd improve his performance to gain a higher pay, he would go the extra mile just as she would to tend to their charge's needs, but his intentions were filled with nothing but greed. As much as it would pain her, Hannah wouldn't be surprised if Claude were to leave anytime soon.

Her thoughts were cut off by a sudden knock at the door. After the sound of a lock clicking, the door opened to reveal her employer, a sour look on his face. "You two!" Trancy said, his sharp eyes focused on Claude and Hannah. "You'd better get him ready soon. He'll have an uncle waiting for him shortly. And get that other rat out of there, will you?" The door slammed shut, leaving behind a shocked nursemaid, her indifferent coworker, their distraught charge and his crying brother to the man's unjust orders.

Alois started shaking, his breathing becoming more irregular and shallow. His hyperventilating was accompanied by incoherent whimpers and sounds of obvious distress. Noticing his brother's state of panic and how he'd just put his hands over his mouth, Luka scrambled for an empty water bucket just in time for Alois to empty the rest of his stomach contents into.

In a flash, Claude and Hannah were at his side with a respective glass of water and hand rubbing the boy's back in circles. Alois was more of a mess than ever as his body once again wracked with sobs in between every retching episode and coughing fit. Once his stomach was finally empty and the dry-heaving had ceased, Hannah had no choice but to send Luka out. "I'm very sorry," she said, "But I think it's time that you'll have to leave, Luka."

The younger boy sniffed, trying to be strong for his brother who was, at that moment, in hysterics partly from the fever and exhaustion getting to his mind along with the ordeal from Byron and Hector to the words of Mr. Trancy. Nevertheless, he simply nodded. Not caring about the now-dried-up vomit, Luka pulled his brother into a tight embrace, letting the older boy's head into the crook of his shoulder. "I've gotta go now, Brother."

Despite his sobs being louder in volume, Alois nodded.

"Whichever uncles you 'ave today, I'm sure they'll understand." After one last tight squeeze, Luka broke away from the hug and walked out the door, looking over his shoulder after closing it behind him.

Be well enough to set your sails in the morning, Captain Jim.

/

It wasn't until after Alois was bathed and dressed when his crying had quieted down into small hiccups. Claude was running a brush through his hair for a second time and Hannah was sure to put extra makeup on him to hide his blotchy, feverish skin. Claude then picked him up and carried him out of the room and down the corridor to the brothel entrance, Hannah trailing closely behind. Alois buried his face into the front of his butler's tailcoat, not wanting to look at all of the dirty looks given to him from the other boys.

Rounding the third corner and into the entrance hall, Alois heard two voices. The first he immediately knew belonged to his father, there was no question about that. The other sounded familiar, but too far away for the boy to recognize. Nearing the main doors, the second voice became considerably clearer. It was slightly deeper than normal, as well as a bit raspy from age, but there was something about the voice that made every word flow to the boy's ears like honey. The voice was calm and understanding, and it made him more relaxed and at peace with every word, despite the tears that still lingered in his eyes.

Being set down on the ground once more, Alois looked up at the familiar smiling face and latched onto the body it belonged to.

"Deeply sorry for the wait, Edward," said Father. "It won't happen again." He was stoic, and Alois imagined that Father would yell at him again if it weren't for Uncle Edward being present.

"Not a problem, Trancy." Uncle Edward rested a hand on the boy's head. "We'll be off, then." With that, Alois was guided outside by his favorite uncle and lifted into the carriage where they began to make their way from the Trancy House.

About half an hour into the drive, Alois was starting to feel nauseous once again from the bumpy cobblestone roads that blurred his vision of the small village they were passing through. It was funny, he thought, as he'd assumed his stomach was emptied more than an hour ago. "Uncle Edward?" He said, staying quiet so as not to make himself feel worse.

"What is it, my boy?"

"I don't feel well."

"How do you mean?"

"I feel like I'm going to be sick." His stomach jumped. "I think I need to step out."

Uncle Edward signaled the coachman to stop the horses, proceeding to help Alois off of the carriage seat and out the door. Surprised by the sudden heat emitting from the boy's body, the man brought a hand to his small forehead. "You've quite the fever, lad. I think we'll skip our trip to London today."

"Mmh," was all Alois could reply with. Being carried out for some fresh air was all he cared about at the moment. If there was still something left in him, he didn't think he could keep it in for much longer.

The carriage had stopped just out of the village next to a seemingly well-cared for but uninhabited flat of land which Alois was lowered down to. As soon as his feet had touched the grass and Uncle Edward stopped supporting his weight, the ground started to turn and sway out of the boy's balance. All of his surroundings spun around him as he desperately tried to find his own center of gravity.

It wasn't long until he stopped fighting against the waves of dizziness and nausea overcoming him. Crumbling down to his hands and knees, he'd brought up small amounts of yellow bile before Uncle Edward took him and sat him down into the carriage. "As soon as we arrive, I'm calling for a doctor."

Alois laid his head in his uncle's lap. "Does this mean you aren't going to..."

"I would never, my boy." Uncle Edward soothingly ran his fingers through the boy's hair. "Not while you're in this state. Now get some rest, alright?"

Alois nodded, relieved that his dear uncle wouldn't be using his body today. If he was lucky, maybe Uncle Edward would let him stay in Wembley until he was well again. Snuggling close into the lap beneath his head, it wasn't long until he'd fallen into a deep slumber.

/

Waking up, he found himself in a familiar plain, ivory-white bed, letting his head sink into the suffocatingly fluffy pillows. Not having the strength or will to get out of the bed and look for Uncle Edward, Alois simply rolled over to the small nightstand, facing the doorway. It was then that he noticed the cold compress that rested on -or rather, had fallen off- his forehead, shivering as the damp cloth brushed over his face before it fell to the bedsheets. Save for the grey curtains that blew in the light breeze coming from the open window, the room was silent. That was, until he heard voices that were barely audible started down the hall.

"Oh, how horrible. The poor boy."

"Yes," said the voice who Alois immediately recognized as Uncle Edward, "I'm afraid all these years of it seems to have gotten to his mind as well. It's been getting worse ever since I took him into my care."

Years of what? The boy thought. Gotten to my mind?

"May I suggest taking him to an asylum?"

"I'd rather you not." said Uncle Edward, a sudden stern tone in his usually calm voice. "I've heard what goes on in those horrid places. I certainly won't be sending my nephew into a second time through hell.

An asylum? Hell? What are they talking about?

Uncle Edward spoke again. "His room is the next door on the right."

With that, Alois quickly turned his back to the door, squeezing his eyes shut. The footsteps got louder and louder until he felt Uncle Edward's gentle hand on his back. "It's time to wake up. The doctor is here to see you." The boy curled into a fetal position. To be honest, he was quite nervous. He'd never seen a doctor before, and the suggestion of taking him to an asylum made him feel uncomfortable.

"Come now. You want to get better, don't you?" Alois admitted that what Uncle Edward said was true, at least. Opening his eyes, he slowly sat up with some help, insisting that the bedsheets kept him covered from his shoulders down. He could see that the doctor was quite taken aback when he laid eyes on the boy. Perhaps it was surprising to see such a child to be able to hold this great an amount of beauty. Perhaps it was the way his fair hair managed to frame his face in a way that made it almost shaped like a heart, or how his skin stayed as pale as a rare porcelain, never blemished nor bruised. Or the way his eyes were such a shade of the perfect blue that only rivaled the sky itself.

He latched onto Uncle Edward's arm, noticing the metal tools and glass bottles peeking out from the bag in the doctor's hand as the man stepped closer to him. "Hello there," he said, smiling. "I'm Doctor Carson. And what might your name be, my boy?"

Alois only tightened his grip, his wide eyes looking straight at the strange man before him.

Doctor Carson gave out a small chuckle. "We've a shy one, have we now? It's alright, you don't have to be scared. All I want from you is your name."

Still, the boy stayed silent.

"My apologies, sir." Uncle Edward used his free hand to lightly tousle the boy's hair. "I believe this is his first-"

"It's Alois..." The boy's words were barely a whisper, though they did not go unnoticed by the two men in the room.

"I'm sorry, my boy." Doctor Carson leaned in closer. "I didn't quite catch that. Do you mind saying it a bit louder?"

"Alois..." He said it above a whisper this time, but with only enough volume that his name had barely reached the doctor's ears.

The man smiled wider, extending a hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Alois." After a few moments in noticing that the boy was reluctant to take the hand that was offered to him, he spoke again. "You don't have to be scared, Alois. I'm not going to do anything."

"Go on." Said Uncle Edward. "Shake his hand."

Cautiously, Alois reached out his hand. However, the doctor, taking obvious notice of the boy's off-the-shoulder, laced and cut-off sleeves, had instead grabbed the small wrist in front of him, much to the young one's surprise.

Uncle Edward had never undressed the boy, still leaving him in the clothes that Claude and Hannah had chosen for him.

Alois then felt the sheets being pulled off of him, the doctor's gaping mouth growing wider.

"What kind of monster dresses a child in these clothes?" Doctor Carson asked, not to a specific person, perhaps maybe himself.

Alois brought his knees to his chest, trying in vain to hide his ruffles and bows, his bare spots and garter belts. His eyes never left the doctor's own. "It's what Father wishes." He said. Though his voice came out quiet, he was surprised that the doctor didn't look at him like all of his uncles did. Even Uncle Edward, whose eyes usually had just the smallest glint of desire in them, looked at him with only sympathy. In a sense, it was oddly comforting to Alois, the unfamiliar gaze of concern where he at least thought lust should have been.

Doctor Carson sighed as he slowly put the covers back onto him. "You poor boy."

"Those are the clothes he'd came in," Uncle Edward sighed.

"It's quite the relief that the man's good as dead."

Alois only paused at first, amidst the long moments of silence that followed the doctor's words. He only stared in disbelief- no, rather in refusal to believe- when Uncle Edward asked something that reached him only in a mere echo, his catatonic state refusing to let him answer or pay mind to the concerned man.

It didn't take a fool, Alois thought, to know that this 'man' Doctor Carson had spoke of was definitely Father. The thought of him dying in spite of the recent events that had taken place did no help in comforting the boy, and simply was incomprehensible to him.

Tears slowly made their way down his cheeks as he tightened his grip on Uncle Edward's arm. "Father isn't dead, is he?" He asked meekly, peering up at the two apologetic faces looking down at him. "It's not true... Please tell me it's not."

Still, the two men kept hold of their unchanging masks, not realizing their well-meant sense of comfort only came off to the boy as too fake and forced.

"Why won't you say something?" He asked, his sobs growing louder as more tears escaped from his wide, pleading eyes.

Silence.

"Please say something." Alois spoke a bit louder this time, hoping to further the break of the silence.

No use.

"Say something, please!" He'd yelled a bit louder than he wanted to, but soon let his volume rise. "Father isn't dead!" He repeated. "Father isn't dead. Father isn't dead." His mantra grew louder with every recital. "Father isn't dead! Father isn't dead! Father isn't dead!"

The two men, now noticing the boy's distress, decided to take it upon themselves to stop whatever was growing inside of him from lashing out in full.

"Alois, please calm down," Doctor Carson said, trying desperately to take back how he brought up the subject. "This isn't good for your fever."

But his words were all for naught.

"If you'd excuse me, Doctor," said Uncle Edward, trying to compete over the volume of the boy next to him. "I'd appreciate if you'd step out of the room for a moment. I'll handle this myself."

"Of course." Doctor Carson quickly headed out of the room, closing the door behind him.

With the two being alone at last, Edward took it upon himself to end this quickly. "Hush, now," He soothed, taking the boy into his arms. "Father isn't dead, you need not worry."

"Then why did he say-" Alois could barely finish his sentence throughout the series of hiccups that had started in his throat.

"Listen to me." Uncle Edward took the boy's face in his hands. "Tell me what happens if one of your uncles want to see you."

Alois had stuttered a little, still trying to get his breathing under control. "Th-They tell Father. Then they pay him lots of m-money so they can see me."

"That's correct, my boy. But do you realize that this is very private? When we pay Father, it's done in the utmost secrecy."

"Why is that?" The boy asked.

"Because most people don't like the idea of men like me taking little boys like you into our homes. We could get in big trouble, and you might not have a place to live anymore. You don't want that, do you?"

"No, Uncle." Alois shook his head. "But why did the doctor say that Father was dead?"

"I'm sorry about that, my boy. I had to lie to him."

"What to you mean?"

"I had to make sure he wouldn't question anything or find out that I'd paid for you to come here. Now, listen closely for me." Uncle Edward lifted the boy onto his lap. "You have to pretend that you're my nephew whom I brought to live with me after the recent death of your abusive father. You have to pretend that you've been through years of neglect, beatings, and torture, and that your body has been used several times against your will." Uncle Edward held the boy closer. "Unfortunately, I think that last part's going to be easier for you."

Alois forlornly hung his head low, leaning into the man's embrace.

"I'm going to have the doctor come back in, alright?" Uncle Edward asked, getting up from the ground and sitting on the bed, the boy still in his arms. "Remember what I told you."

Alois nodded. The roles of both broken and innocent had their ties. He merely had to put on a sad face, or wait to be coaxed to do something. Maybe even flinch at the raise of a hand. It shouldn't be too hard, he thought.

Setting the boy back into his bed, Uncle Edward called for the doctor. It was then that Alois started his act, outstretching his arms and silently pleading for Uncle Edward to lift him into his lap.

Doctor Carson opened the door to see that the boy had finally calmed down, burying his face into his uncle's chest. His breathing had regulated to something around normal, emitting the odd sniffle or tiny sob every now and then. "You're quite good with him, I see." He said, reaching into his bag.

Edward looked down at his 'nephew' and began to rub his head. "I'm the only one that has been, I'm afraid." He slowly lifted Alois back onto the bed, receiving quiet cries of protest and pleas from the boy to not be moved. After whispering something into his ear, Edward had calmed Alois down to the point where he seemed quite peaceful, curiously looking around the room and into Doctor Carson's bag, staring intently at the thermometer case that had been pulled out.

"Have you seen one of these before, Alois?" the doctor asked, noticing his interest.

Alois only cocked his head to the side, saying nothing. It wasn't exactly a yes or a no.

"I doubt you'll be able to make him talk anymore," said Uncle Edward. "He's spoken more in the last few minutes than any day since I took him in.

Doctor Carson nodded, never diverting his attention from the silent boy. "I'll have to put this thermometer in your mouth to see how high your fever is. Can you open up for me?"

Though he still said nothing, the look on Alois' face changed to a puzzled one.

"Open your mouth, Alois." Uncle Edward coaxed. "Let the doctor take your temperature."

Slowly, the boy parted his lips, his jaw barely wide enough for the doctor to do his work. However, Alois, who had not initially noticed the glass object's form, began to panic as the thermometer's tip moved closer and closer to his open mouth. Hyperventilating, he backed away from the doctor, with one hand covering his mouth and the other reaching for Uncle Edward. The man quickly but calmly took it, lowering it down the the bed and making circles over the boy's palm with his thumb. This seemed to calm Alois down, as his grip loosened over his jaw. Uncle Edward took that hand as well, joining it with the other one. "It's alright," the man said, gently squeezing the boy's hands. "The doctor's not going to do anything to you. Now open your mouth again."

Alois gave out a small whimper as Doctor Carson brought out a hand under his jaw. In the few moments of the thermometer entering his mouth, he'd thought of biting and breaking the horrible-tasting mercury over his tongue. To his surprise, however, having his temperature taken had been over with faster than he thought.

"He has a fever of one-hundred-and-four." Said Doctor Carson, clearing the thermometer and putting it back in its case. "It should be in your best interest to break it." He took out a bottle of medicine and set it on the small nightstand. "Have him take a tablespoon or two of this every four to six hours. He must not exceed ten dosages within a day."

Uncle Edward nodded.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, Edward," the doctor continued, "I'm on a tight schedule today. I pray that your dear nephew finds solace in this world, after all that he's been through. My heart goes out to that, I assure you."

"Many thanks." Uncle Edward said, answering the boy's small pleas to be held once more.

"And as for you, Alois..." Doctor Carson switched his attention to the young one cradled in Edward's arms. "Be a good boy for your uncle. Take your medicine. Can you do that for me?"

The boy only huddled closer into Edward, though still peeking out at the doctor with wide eyes. Doctor Carson gave a patient smile, chuckling at the boy's actions. "I see that you love your uncle very much, Alois. I trust that you'll behave." Picking up his medical bag, he started towards the door. "It was a pleasure meeting you both, but it's time I take my leave. No need to show me the way out."

"Thank you again, Doctor." Uncle Edward said as the other man left, the door closing behind him. After a few brief moments of silence, Alois spoke.

"Did I do well, Uncle?"

"You did very well, my boy." Uncle Edward ran his fingers through the boy's hair again, setting him back down on the bed. "Why don't you stay and lie here for a bit while I call Father and say you'll be staying with me longer. After that, would you like me to get a bath ready for you?"

Alois nodded eagerly, giving the man one last hug before he left. "Yes, thank you, Uncle!"

Now alone in his room, the boy snuggled into the covers, a small smile on his face. Uncle's so very nice to me, he thought to himself. I wish Father was like this. Like he used to be.

He smiled wider.

Perhaps Uncle Edward can be my new Father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! I think one more chapter to go and then this story will be finished. Not sure how long that's going to take, though. But fear not, dear readers! I won't abandon this story. Be sure to comment and give kudos if you liked it so far! Thanks!

**Author's Note:**

> Welp, there it is. Any constructive criticism would be great, as this is my first story here on ao3. See you next time, lovely people!


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